When Paths Meet
by Reiji Neko Mitsukai
Summary: Oneshot. Two survivors from Raccoon City reunite, only to find themselves trapped in Willamette Valley Mall during yet another zombie outbreak. Rebecca, Billy, Frank, and Adam the psychotic clown.


Disclaimer: I own nobody.

Author's note: A brainsquee I felt compelled to write. I have no intention of expanding on this further.

_When Paths Meet_

_Something about him bothers me._

That was the initial reaction between Billy Coen and Frank West when they finally managed to meet face-to-face and not have to worry about zombies breathing down their necks.

"Nice weapon," Billy had smirked, looking pointedly at the camera around the other man's neck. "Plan on making them blink to death?"

"Nice shirt," came the return volley, looking at the wifebeater-like tank top he wore. "What jail did you break out of?"

The two women- Rebecca and Jessie- merely hung their head and rolled their eyes, respectively. It seemed as though putting two alpha males in the same small room together could only end in disaster- as well as several very important but equally damaged items.

The two men had been taking potshots at each other since they met. Frank compared Billy to a pedophile, remarking on Rebecca's appeared age ("I'm _twenty-four_, _thank you_," came her ground out response) and constantly mentioned his large tattoo being a means of compensation. Billy's rebuttals usually involved comparing Frank to a runway model due to his suit and habit of checking out the clothes in the stores he got into- if not outright hinting that the photojournalist was gay.

However, both men had talent when it came to mass zombie slaying. A gun, golf clubs- even inane things such as guitars- were used with frightening efficiency. Get the two men back to back and it was a maelstrom of carnage, zombie blood flying everywhere as they were slashed, smashed, shot, beaten, cut, and exploded into undead oblivion. Although clearly NOT how they wanted to spend three days, they were at least _trying_ to have a form of fun- most notably, when they turned it into a game of sorts, such as the thrilling round of "zombie head home run" when they had gone out to rescue two women that had barricaded themselves in a store.

The two men couldn't stand each other. But give them a weapon and let them loose on the zombies, and it was a complete turnaround. No one could really understand it.

However, that took the back burner when confronted with they psychotic clown known as Adam. They needed to stop the ride- and the chainsaw-wielding "walking punchline" (as he had described himself) had made his intentions clear if they tried. Furthermore, Rebecca was with them; she needed to restock her kit, and knew there had to be something somewhere in the mall that was useful. Billy just couldn't let anything happen to her. Not after it had taken him so long to find her again.

The clown was a pain to kill. None of them liked to kill people- insane or not- but it was necessary. Frank and Billy were sure to keep the rampaging entertainer focused on them while Rebecca provided assistance, as well as keeping any zombies away that may try to sneak up on them. Melee weapons were not her strong point, but she had only gotten better with a gun over the past six years. Clearly she had been training with that marksman, Chris.

It had taken teamwork to take the clown down, and even as he wobbled on his feet, that eerie laugh never ceased. Rebecca had stepped forward- perhaps to fire off another shot, perhaps to try to talk to the dying man- but Billy's free hand quickly came to her arm, stopping her. Something wasn't right.

Both of the men raised their guns as their opponent moved. However, it wasn't an offensive maneuver- rather, it was his knees giving way, the laugh slower- weaker?- as he dropped. All eyes were locked on him.

It had happened so fast and yet so slow; like a train wreck they couldn't pull their eyes from. The twin blue chainsaws, both still in the maniac's hands, swung inward as he fell, the shift of the weight- as well as his weakening grip- giving the blades time to come to rest a mere seconds before him. He was still holding onto them, however; perhaps still thinking he could put up a fight as his fingers tightened around the triggers and revving the small motors, the blades still spinning…

… As he landed right on top of them.

Rebecca had gasped, her jade eyes widening in shock and horror mere moments before the contact was made. She had seen the clown release the power tools to catch himself, but by then it was much too late. The inevitability and knowing full well what would happen made it all the worse. And yet she couldn't look away.

The first spray of red had just begun to fly when she suddenly found herself being quickly pulled towards someone, her mind and body still locked from the horrible realization to resist. Strong arms came around her- the hand of the one around her middle back with a gun in it, while the other held her head to a chest, away from the grisly sight. Her heart pounded as she briefly struggled to comprehend what had just happened, hearing the heart near her ear was likewise fast. A quick blast of warm breath accompanied the feeling of someone's cheek coming to her temple, and she realized she had been breathing just as tight.

She soon recognized the color of the tank top and the faint scent of the familiar cologne- mingled nearly to obscurity with sweat and traces of blood. It was Billy that was holding her protectively to him, his arms around her tight as though to shield her from the sight behind her. Although she initially blushed, that soon went away with the sound of what was happening to Adam.

The laughter became hysterical as the motors of the chainsaws continued to rev, the sickening splatter of liquid becoming constant. Rebecca found that she couldn't breathe when the shrieking laughter briefly became garbled with wet chokes and gags that cloaked the screams of unimaginable pain. She need not look to imagine what was happening to his vital organs.

And yet the laughter continued- like a scratched record that continued to play the same two seconds over and over again, making the young woman bring both her hands to Billy's chest, burying her face in his shirt. Oh God- that sound grated in her ears like nails on a chalkboard; or chipped zombie nails scraping along a tiled floor as they crawled towards her. She thought she would go insane before it ended.

If at all possible, Billy held on to her tighter, almost as though he was trying to block out the sound. It was bad enough she was hearing it; seeing it as well would only make things worse for her.

He, however, watched the train wreck continue, his face paling at the sheer amount of blood being sprayed onto the floor. It seemed the chainsaws would keep on going until they had cut right through the body of their owner- the irony was horrible. Even Frank, he had noticed from the corner of his vision, had covered his mouth with his hand. The ex-convict couldn't blame him- he was beginning to feel a little sick himself. But he had to protect Rebecca- and that included making sure some freak accident didn't happen with the chainsaws to send them flying at her.

The record playing the laughter began to slow down then, like the battery was dying and the tone becoming lower and lower as more power was lost. The chainsaws continued to cut- it was Adam that was nearly through.

Finally the loud expressions of humor slowed to a stop. The motors kept going, the smell of cooked blood wafting into the air. After several seconds, Frank recovered enough to gingerly reach through the continuing bloodspray and shut off the chainsaws. Billy vaguely saw him pick up something from the still spreading blood pool before- knowing the other man would keep an eye on the dead clown- he brought his attention to the woman in his arms.

Rebecca's hands had tightened into fists, the fabric of his shirt caught in her fingers as she refused to let go. She was shaking a noticeable amount. His hand on her head began to gently stroke her hair, the brown strands having grown a bit since Raccoon. It was a few more seconds before a whispered "You alright?" escaped his lips, feeling her merely cling tighter to him in response. Physically, yes she was. However, it would be a long time before she would be able to sleep in peace.

Frank's footsteps wandered away to the console, and Billy reluctantly returned his gaze to the body on the floor. The blood spray was massive, and the puddle that had formed only continued to grow. The patchwork clothes were mostly red now, having soaked up a lot of the mess, but it was hard to miss the shreds of organ tissues that had been thrown about by the spinning blades. He wasn't sure if he had seen anything quite this horrible in Raccoon.

Not that they had told Frank or any of the others about what had happened six years ago. They figured it would be best to keep that part of their history to themselves as much as possible. If it became necessary or if they asked directly, then yes- they'd explain it. But for now it was a strictly need-to-know story, and they'd work together together to survive. Like they had back in the forest.

Only this time, he had no intention of leaving her side once they were free.

Frank quietly observed the scene for a few moments. For all his faults, the other man cared about the young woman a great deal- how someone like her had met and fallen for someone like him was beyond his understanding. But somehow, it worked- they cooperated well with each other. There was _something_ that made them made them close, something that brought them together. He knew that they were prime candidates for a "beautiful moment" that would be a fantastic shot to add to his collection. It seemed like this was one of them. He could get a shot of the clown later- he didn't know how long their hold would last.

The sudden flash started Billy, who jumped a little and glared at the offender. "You mind?"

A slight smirk as he raised the camera. "Photojournalist. It's what I do." A nod towards the girl in his arms. "I'll give you two a copy. It's a nice shot."

A quiet snort of irritation was the only response before returning his attention to Rebecca. The camera flashed once more as a picture of Adam was taken.

It wasn't until the machinery came to a halt was Billy released. Her smaller form shifted and he gradually let her go. She didn't meet his eyes; it seemed Miss Do-It-Herself was a little embarrassed. "Sorry," came her murmured apology, staring where his dogtags would have been had they not been around her own neck and hidden under her shirt. She wondered if she would ever pull them out and explain that she had worn them every day since then.

Her chin was gently lifted by a finger to meet his gaze. "Don't be. There's nothing to be sorry for. It looked worse than it sounded, and I didn't want you seeing that."

There was a suspiciously small amount of space between them, and Frank raised his camera in preparation. An odd place for- what he assumed would be- their first kiss, but who was he to argue...

Feeling eyes on them, Billy's gaze shifted to the other man and Rebecca's followed, her promptly realizing what the situation looked like and blushed before stepping away. Her companion turned towards the other man, folding his arms.

"Parasite."

A chuckle began his response as he turned his camera off to conserve the battery. "Hey; I'm not the one trying to kiss a girl while standing next to a dead clown."

He visibly bristled. "I wasn't-!"

Frank had already turned to cross the track now free from moving traffic. He waved a hand at him without looking over his shoulder. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Let's keep going, Romeo."

_End_

Author's note: Surprisingly enough, this took me less than twelve hours to write. The animosity between Frank and Billy wasn't originally planned, but I think it adds more to the story.


End file.
